


aftermath

by policeshark



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, howard is gay, maybe a second chapter if people like it enough, set after the party episode in season 3, vince is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7416307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/policeshark/pseuds/policeshark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vince confessed his love to Howard on the rooftop that night, and after years of pining after him, Vince is ready to finally put everything out in the open. The only trouble is, Howard's avoiding him like the plague, and Vince is worried that he accidentally ruined everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> a gift for my boyfriend, because i love him.

Vince wakes up on the floor.

 

It takes a few seconds for him to realise where he is - vision slowly adjusting to the dim room. The lights are off, the curtains are drawn, and rubbish was scattered around him. He groans. His head’s  _ killing  _ him, and he comes to the conclusion that he must have a hangover.

 

Slowly, he sits up, wincing as a sharp pain shoots through his head. His back aches, too, probably due to passing out on the bloody floor. He takes a moment to stretch before getting up and shuffling over to the kitchen for a hangover cure. A few minutes later he curls up on the couch, sips his drink, and runs through the events of last night.

 

It was certainly a party to remember. It’s a bit of a blur, and as he strains to remember, he finds that there are only three things coming to mind: Howard, Kissing Howard, and confessing his love for Howard.

 

_ Jesus _ . And they hadn’t even gone to bed together. Not that he’s only after sex, of course. But it would have been nice if  _ something  _ had happened, even if it  _ was  _ just cuddling.

 

Vince groans to himself. It’s hardly the most romantic way to confess your feelings, trying to convince a jealous head shaman that you hadn’t snogged his wife. In hindsight, it probably sounded like a lie to get away from him - maybe that’s why Howard hadn’t taken him seriously. It was a bit hasty. Fuck.

 

Maybe he should take it back. Play it off like it  _ was  _ a lie,  _ sorry _ , I don’t  _ really  _ feel that way. I was just trying to save my own skin, Howard, I may swing both ways but I certainly don’t swing in  _ your  _ direction.

 

They could laugh about it, then. After all, a kiss is nothing if there’s no feelings behind it, so who would care?

 

He frowns. There  _ were  _ feelings behind it, though.  _ Years  _ of them, bubbling to the surface after being pushed down for so long - they’d exploded into that kiss, and Vince  _ knows  _ Howard won’t believe him if he says it’s nothing. He’s not stupid. Vince takes another sip of his drink, and lets out a long sigh.

 

Besides, he doesn’t really want to take it back. He’s been keeping it to himself for so long that he feels… relieved to have it out in the open. For Howard to  _ know  _ that he’s in love with him. Maybe he’ll confess the same thing to Vince, and they’ll live happily ever after as the Nabootique’s gayest shopkeepers.

 

Of course, there’s always the possibility that Howard doesn’t like him back. That this whole thing could ruin everything, completely. Maybe their entire friendship will burn to the ground, and he’ll be left on his own.  _ Fuck _ . He’ll have to wait til Howard wakes up. Maybe he’ll be the one to bring it up.

***

 

An half hour or so later Howard stumbles into the kitchen, freezes when he sees Vince, and frantically looks for somewhere to run, looking like a deer in the headlights.

 

“Howard,” Vince starts, immediately picking up on his painfully obvious awkwardness. “Did you sleep w--”

 

“Who, me? Yeah, yeah, I slept just fine. Perfect. Just grabbing a glass of water. Gonna get dressed. Then open the shop. Right. See you later.” And with that, he turns on his heel and practically bolts out of the room, without even glancing at a glass.

 

Vince stares after him for a moment, before covering his face with his hands and letting out a muffled groan.

 

***

 

They hardly speak a word to each other all day. Vince attempts conversation, but before he can even broach the subject Howard hurries off to busy himself with some odd job or other, insisting that there’s too much work to do, and no time to chat. Eventually Vince resigns himself to the awkward silence and gets on with the rest of his day.

 

At 5:30 Howard closes the shop and immediately hurries upstairs before Vince can open his mouth. He stays in his room all night, and Vince tries not to cry himself to sleep.

 

***

 

The same tension carries them throughout the rest of the week, and with every day of being avoided, Vince feels his heart break a little more.

 

Had he really fucked things up this badly? It was just one kiss, wasn’t it? Did that really mean the end of a lifelong friendship? There’s a constant lump in his throat, and his usual sunshiney behaviour has all but disappeared by the time Thursday rolls around. It was a jarring contrast to how he’d felt before the party, and was as obvious as Howard’s awkward excuses to avoid him.

 

He really did cry himself to sleep, that night. Letting a week’s worth of emotions spill out onto his pillow, shaking violently and trying to muffle the noise. Vince Noir didn’t cry - not like this. He didn’t get  _ depressed _ , it just wasn’t his style. He prides himself on his unshakeable optimism.

 

Or at least he did, before he fucked everything up.

 

He falls into an uneasy sleep at around 2am, and when he wakes up late for work the next day, it takes a great deal of energy for him to even get out of bed.

***

 

“Vince, pass me that box, will you?”

 

“Sure, whatever.”

 

He drags himself from his position behind the counter and grabs a box without looking, nearly slamming it down before Howard. There’s a beat of silence before Howard quirks an eyebrow at him.

 

“Wrong box.”

 

“Well why don’t  _ you  _ go and get it then?”

 

“Woah, no need to get tetchy.”

 

“Oh, piss off.”

 

He scowls and turns away, arms folded across his chest in defense. He hates this, he really does. There’s nothing he wants more than to crack a smile and make a joke, but last night he’d cried himself out - now he’s just angry; irritable. He’s decided he’s just going to sit and sulk until he drops dead.

 

Howard hovers behind him, awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other. It’s obvious he wants to say something, and the constant moving his grinding on Vince’s nerves.

 

“Just fucking  _ say  _ something, will you? You’ve said about ten word to me in the past week, and I’m sick of it. If you’ve got something to say, then go ahead! Just get it over with, yeah?”

 

“Vince…” Howard trails off, and when Vince turns around, he’s startled to see him looking like a kicked puppy, wringing his hands and looking down at the ground.

 

His anger dissolves almost immediately, replaced with anticipation for the conversation he’s been dying to have since they shared a kiss. There are a few more seconds of silence before Howard finally speaks.

 

“It’s the blue box, next to the piano.”

 

_ “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Howard! _ ” Vince snaps, making the older man jump with surprise. He takes a deep breath and composes himself before continuing. “I know you’ve been avoiding me for the past week, it’s not like you could make it any more obvious. And I know  _ why  _ you’ve been avoiding me, too.”

 

He half expects him to run away again - and he  _ does  _ look ready to bolt at a moment's notice - but Howard, to his credit, stays exactly where he is, and Vince is encouraged to keep talking.

 

“We kissed. And it wasn’t just a kiss, because I said I was in love with you, and - and it was true, and we can’t keep ignoring that, because at this point it doesn’t even matter if you feel the same way. This entire thing is killing me. I hate not talking to you, I hate these horrible silences and I hate you making up excuses to avoid talking to me all the time.” He takes a deep breath. “We need to talk about this, because otherwise nothing will get fixed, and I  _ know  _ you don’t want things to be left like this for the rest of our lives.”

 

Tears are threatening to spill down his cheeks, but he blinks them back, and swallows the lump in his throat. He’d done enough crying over Howard - enough pining, enough wanting, enough feeling guilty or ashamed - now it’s time for him to take action, and no matter how it ends, at least he can say that he tried.

 

Howard swallows, and gives a small nod.

 

“Alright,” Vince continues, his voice softening considerably. “I don’t expect you to - leap into my arms and ask for my hand in marriage, or anything, so don’t worry about that. I just… need you to know. I’m in love with you. And I’m sorry I sprang it on you like that, and that it made everything all awkward, but I’ve spent ages keeping it to myself, and I suppose I could make a joke and tell you I was just kidding around, or whatever, but I’m sick of keeping it bottled up. So. Now you know.”

 

The silence that follows seems like hours, but only lasts about a minute or so.

 

“Vince, you idiot.”

 

He glances up, and is shocked to see Howard struggling to hold back tears.

 

“I thought you were just lying about it, to save yourself from the head shaman. I had no idea that’s how you really felt. If I did, I’d’ve… done something about it. But this is new territory for me. I was scared.”

 

“It’s okay, Howard, honest-”

 

“No, it’s not. I’ve been a right prick to you, these past few days, when I should’ve been the opposite. I knew you were hurting, but I didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

 

“‘S’alright.”

 

Vince rubs his arm awkwardly for a few seconds, before shuffling forwards, cautiously. When Howard doesn’t resist, he buries himself into his chest and lets out a choked sob. Howard’s arms wrap around him, pulling him closer. He presses a soft kiss to Vince’s forehead, and buries his face into his hair.

 

“There there, little man. I’ve got you.”

 

They stay like that for a few minutes, crying quietly, before Howard pulls away and tilts Vince’s chin upwards. He looks at him for a few seconds, before leaning in and pressing their lips together.

 

Vince’s heart flutters and he immediately kisses back, wrapping his arms around Howard’s neck and pulling him down. He feels the other smile into the kiss and can’t help but laugh, making Howard do the same and soon they’re giggling with each other like two schoolboys.

 

“God, Vince, I love you.”

 

“D’you mean that, Howard?”

 

“Yes, I do. I really, really do.”


End file.
